


Flash of Fangs

by Nakimochiku



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:04:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakimochiku/pseuds/Nakimochiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They skirt each other in the darkness, one a grey wolf, the other a timber wolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flash of Fangs

**Author's Note:**

> I really just had an intense craving for werewolf!Hannibal/Will.

They skirt each other in the dark. One large wolf stands just across the pavement under a street light, proud and hardly harried, his grey fur glistening. He is not a young wolf, muzzle sprinkled with white, but he is strong, deadly. The other wolf keeps to the shadows of the trees, though he is timber wolf brown and chestnut and russet, his pack of mutts shifting restlessly behind them. They are larger than him, but he commands them with ease. When they start to bark at the grey wolf, he silences them with a snarl.

The grey wolf trots towards the shadows, and stands in the middle of the road. He howls, beckoning the timber wolf to him. Reluctantly the wolf complies, slinking forward, tail low and ears flat and head hung, completely submissive. He noses at the grey wolf, once, and backs away once more, staying close to the ground.

He inspects the timber wolf, sniffs him carefully, and backs away as well. A flash of fangs and the grey wolf is gone, leaving the timber wolf to his pack.

*

They find each other at the same place. The man, dressed impeccably, waits under the street lamp. It’s not quite ten o’clock, but the waning summer moon is high and bright. The other man slinks forward, hands tucked nervously in his rumpled green jacket. “Ah.” The man says, and gives a tight lipped smile. “You came.”

They stand together in the middle of the road, measuring each other up. In human form, the grey wolf is suave and intimidating, a predator. The timber wolf is slight and small and perhaps even more submissive than his wolf counterpart. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hannibal Lecter.” He stands closer than necessary, close enough to scent him.

“Will Graham.” The timber wolf grunts, and shivers in chilled anticipation. Hannibal’s nose dips towards his throat, and for a sickening moment he thinks he’ll tear it out.

“You’re small.” Hannibal says at last, brow wrinkling in a disapproving frown, making Will’s shoulders hunch further. “You don’t hunt nearly enough.”

“I’d be small anyway. I’m a mongrel.” He watches Hannibal’s mouth, waits for that same flash of teeth. “My mother never told my father what she was, and then disappeared before she could teach me anything.” Hannibal nods in understanding. He offers another tight lipped smile, and rather than a hand shake, leans forward to touch noses, a gesture too sudden and too intimate. Will gasps and stumbles away.

“Then I think we should be pack, Will Graham.”

*

Hannibal comes to find him on the next full moon. He snaps the dog pack into submission, makes them stay in the house, and trots on ahead. He waits for Will in the half darkness and turns back, eternally patient. Will follows him out towards the woods.

Hannibal nips at him, playfully, and forces him to romp in the grass until the full moon is caught in his russet fur, inhaled in every breath, smelling of living things and summer. Hannibal gives him a wolf grin, and they lope together into the woods.

Its the first time he’s ever felt so free in this form, felt wild and true, tongue lolling and flanks heaving and paws stretching out as he gives into the urge to run, chasing Hannibal’s ghost grey form in and out of the trees, pale grey eyes wide and seeing. Hannibal barks a laugh at him, as though he is an infant, a pup, truly experiencing the world for the first time.

They bring down a deer together. The blood is salty and good over Will’s tongue, his first true kill with proper pack. Hannibal grins at him, brown eyes glinting, while they feast.

*

“It’s a shame you aren’t a female, Will.” Hannibal says, taking off his jacket and folding it carefully, setting it on the only surface that isn’t littered with dog hair. Will grunts in response, packing away dog bowls from the dish rack. “With our numbers as thin as they are, even a mongrel female would be better than nothing.”

“Is that what stopped you from ever mating?” Will asks, and doesn’t see as Hannibal stalks around him, silent, hunting. Or perhaps doesn’t want to see. Hannibal chuckles.

“No.” Will starts when the word and its warm gush of breath falls on his ears, hands settling on his hips, pulling him flush against him. He’s too warm, too insistent. But a scrape of teeth has Will submitting to him, letting Hannibal bend him over the kitchen counter, hands gripping the edges and a noise of fear caught in his throat. Hannibal grinds against him, hot and hard through his pants. Will whimpers and tries to stay still.

“Hannibal,” he says once, and trembles when Hannibal shushes him. He knows what’s coming, closes his eyes and waits for it. Hannibal’s teeth close around the back of his neck, his jeans crumpling to the floor, his ass bare and Hannibal’s cock nudging against his opening.

“Such a shame you aren’t female.”

*

They are mated, technically. They hunt together every full moon. Sometimes Hannibal stops by for a chat, to feed him, just to lie on the sofa and read a book while Will works on fishing lures and boat motors. Sometimes he bends Will over the nearest surface and they rut together, making animal noises in the twilight, biting and snarling, sweaty and spent.

Always when Hannibal leaves, he touches noses with Will, a gesture too affectionate despite whatever activities they might previously have been up to. But he allows it, because Hannibal is his Alpha.

“You’ve filled out your form, did you know?” Hannibal informs, stroking his hands up Will’s sides. He’s still fully clothed save a loosening of his tie, while Will is spread open and waiting for anything Hannibal deigns to give him. “You aren’t so small anymore.” He grips his cock, smiles, and watches Will jerk up into his fist.

“You treat me well.” Will murmurs, because Hannibal likes to be told he’s a good mate. He’s rewarded with two fingers inside him, a warm delightful stretch that’s not nearly satisfying enough but Will howls anyway.

Hannibal leans to his ear and nips it. “One day I’ll teach you how to truly hunt.” He promises, curling his fingers just so until Will is coming, crying Hannibal’s name unabashedly.

He doesn’t know what he means by truly hunt. He’s not sure he ever wants to find out.

His alpha, his technical mate, curls beside him. He’s not sure how they got into it, but he’s aware he’s the only wolf trapped here, in a little town that is so ironically named. 


End file.
